Abandoned

Posted on Sat Jul 13th, 2019 @ 2:49pm by Lieutenant Jéanne-Thérèse Marsol
Edited on on Sat Aug 3rd, 2019 @ 3:56am

Mission: Preludes
Location: Earth
Timeline: 1944
Tags: Prelude

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Time: 1944
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Jéanne-Thérèse sat in the corner of a room that had been hollowed out from the dirt in one of the trenches that scattered along the old front lines of the war. The sound of shells and mortars echoed off in the distance, dampened from the thunderstorm raging overhead. The rain pattered hard against the tin roof that covered her hollow as flooding storm waters started to overflow the berm at the entrance to the room. She moved from the chair to sit up on the edge of the rotten table that was tucked against the dirt wall in the back of the hollow as she was mostly dry and she wanted to keep her boots dry. The table creaked under her malnourished weight as she shifted crossing her legs. She absentmindedly smacked a mosquito on the back of her neck distracted on how she got here and how much it was similar to the ground battles in the Dominion War.

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Time: 2377
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"USS Coleman, this is Shuttle Kepler, we are on approach."

=/\= "Acknowledged. See you five minutes. Coleman out."=/\= Came across the comms.

Jéanne-Thérèse smiled as she looked back down at her PADD reading the latest article in the medical journal. Being the charge Nurse on the Coleman, it meant that she needed to keep up on the latest technologies and advancements. After all, she was vying for Assistant Chief Medical Officer. She had been placed as a nurse because that was where she was needed during the beginning years of the war. Then she was a combat medic in the ground troops in the Dominion War. Then she advanced to her current position as a head nurse. She had dreams and desires to run her own sickbay one day. 'Everything is a step towards progress,' she thought to herself. She smirked at the thought of her displeased mother when she realized her daughter rather spend all her time gallivanting across the stars instead of maintaining the family farm.

She was broken from her reverie when the shuttle shook violently and alarms sounded. The PADD fell from her hand as she braced herself against the bulkhead that sparked. "USS Coleman, we need assistance!" The pilot screamed as he tried to right the shuttle that started to spin back into the upper atmosphere. The comms crackled with static and more sparks flew from the console. A hissing sound came from the back. "Shit, we're losing atmosphere." The gravity then turned off. With all three of them focused on trying to right the shuttle, the Assistant Chief Medical Officer looked over to the pilot, ignoring the vibrant colors on the outside of the shuttle as they fell deeper into the atmosphere. Just as he was about to say something, the shuttle jarred hard to the port, all the remaining functioning consoles in the cockpit exploded simultaneously.

Jéanne-Thérèse was thrown against the low hanging bulkhead smacking the side of her head against its rounded edge. The sensation of cooling blood started seeping down her scalp as she reached for her head, wincing in pain. The doctor reached over and felt for a pulse on the pilot.

"I know we weren't supposed to be using the transporters, we have no choice." She heard him struggling to say as he got up, hunched over as he hurdled himself to the back of the shuttle. The bright explosions echoed on the outside of the shuttle. Her vision started to blur as her skull started to throb. Being sluggish, she didn't get a chance to grab or say anything in response before the transporter beam engulfed to the two of them.

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Scene: Earth's surface
Time: Unknown
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As the sparkling energy faded from her vision, she blinked at the bright night sky above them trying to clear her vision. An orange blob grew bright white and then it broke up poofing as quickly as it had appeared. A moment of relief washed over her when she realized how close they had cut it towards their end. Even though it was only a couple of seconds that everything happened, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder weighing her down.

"Matt!" she exclaimed, realizing that he was succumbing to his injuries. She grabbed his upper arm and lowered him to the ground. She could hear him wheezing and gurgling as he inhaled and exhaled. Under the moon and starlight, she tried to see what was going on. It was nearly a full moon. She gingerly leaned her head to his ribs and could hear the crackling beneath his jacket. "You have broken ribs; sounds like a bilateral pneumothorax." He reached up and grabbed around the back of her arms to steady himself as he started gasping for air.

She looked around for anything she could use. It finally registered to her that they had no medical kit. Tapping her commbadge, a dull beep emanated from her chest. "USS Coleman, this is Ensign Marsol. Emergency transport, directly to sickbay." Nothing came back. "Marsol to the Coleman." Still nothing. She tapped it again. "Marsol to McKinley." Nothing. "Marsol to anyone!" she screamed. Still nothing. She thought that it might be her commbadge and tapped his. That was when the dull beep registered to her ears. "Hello? Anyone?" she asked even though she knew what the dull beep meant. Their commbadges must have been damaged in whatever happened. He started to grasp at her as his breathing started to hitch and wheeze. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she looked down at her ACMO, knowing that he was dying in her arms. She looked around again; there was nothing but a barren field all around them. She grabbed the knife out of her right boot and was about to cut him relief to breathe. "I'm sorry, Matt." He grabbed her hand staying her help. All she could do now was hold on to him comforting him as he slowly was suffocating himself to death. It didn't take long, only a couple more minutes until he gave his final exhale. The warm tears streamed down her face as she started crying holding his limp body in her arms. She screamed out at the top of her lungs fearing the unknown ahead of her.

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Time: 1944
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The mortars had been getting closer and closer and all she could hope for was that one would hit the tin roof above her putting her out of her misery. A noise outside the room startled her out of the painful memory from 9 years prior. This noise was different though; it sounded like someone plodding through the ankle deep water at the bottom of the trench. She held herself still breathing nearly inaudible. Maybe she would get lucky and they would kill her on the spot or they wouldn't find her and a mortar would find her.

A light shone into the room. She raised her hand to in front of her eyes, blocking out the blinding light. "Identifiez-vous!" a voice from the beyond the doorway.

She raised her hands, her heart lurched as she realized that they were the good guys. At least they were the good guys and not what the other option was. "Je m'appelle Jéanne Marsh; un civil. Je suis désarmé." That wasn't quite the truth. She had a pistol hidden in her backpack. It just wasn't all that handy at that particular moment in time.

"Qu'est ce que tu fais là?" the man asked her why she was there as he stepped forward. "Avez-vous un souhait de la mort?!"

"Non," she responded to his question, even though she really did have a death wish. "Je me repose." Her voice oozed exhaustion as she hoped they would not take them with her.

"Tu veins!"

She felt deflated. There went her chance to getting hit tonight. Maybe she would get lucky and get shot instead. She grabbed her backpack and stepped forwards towards the door staring down the barrels of two distinct rifles. 'Fuck,' she thought to herself. She had lost hope; she just wanted everything to be over.

They motioned for her to go through and walk in front of them. The silence was unnerving as she got drenched in the midnight downpour. 'At least it's summer...'

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Ensign Jéanne-Thérèse Marsol
Former Nurse, USS Coleman